I Reach Out And Take His Hand.

I Shift From One Foot To The Other, Trying To Get A Good Look At Him. When I Finally Do, I Look Away. His Eyes Were Already On Me, Probably Drawn By My Nervous Movement.

Be Brave, Beatrice. I Love You.

I Am Still The Person Who Would Have Died Rather Than Kill You

Our Ability To Know About Ourselves And The World Is What Makes Us Human

Where's Marcus, Destroyer Of Lives, Going To Meet Us?